


Implicit Complicity

by Witchy1ness



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Gen, Slight swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 18:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13553283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchy1ness/pseuds/Witchy1ness
Summary: It's hard to change a mindset over three decades in the making, but he's trying. Starts from Kallus' fight with Thrawn in the old communications tower and how he subsequently handles becoming a full-time Rebel.





	Implicit Complicity

**Author's Note:**

> Star Wars Rebels and all recognizable characters, settings, and dialogue belong to Lucasfilm and Disney and all the fantastic people who've helped create it along the way, I'm just borrowing them :)
> 
> I've also borrowed lyrics from Katy Perry's "Chained to the Rhythm", which also doesn't belong to me (although I take responsibility for capitalizing 'Empire' :D).
> 
> Reviews and constructive criticisms welcome; flames will be ignored.

_Ay, up in your high place, liars_  
_Time is ticking for the Empire..._  


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Honestly, Kallus hadn’t expected Thrawn to be the one to carry out the beat-down.

It isn’t that the Admiral isn’t _capable_ , but it reeks too much of losing control – which is something Thrawn _never_ does.

But obviously Kallus’ betrayal has touched a nerve, because after dragging him back into the tower, Thrawn’s two Death troopers immediately withdraw (out of reach, but still keeping their E11-D blaster rifles on him), leaving him at the non-existent mercy of the Grand Admiral.

And Thrawn is nothing if not meticulous.

Nothing is broken that would impede his ability to walk (because it made for a better show if the condemned had to make his way himself – though Kallus’ ribs hurt like a motherfucker); he stays away from adding to the rather fantastic concussion the agent is already sporting (facial cuts and bruising aside – courtesy of a rather stunning backhand when he tries to kick the Admiral’s knee out); and he is kept conscious throughout the entire process.

Through it all Thrawn’s expression never changes, much the same way the agent – or rather _ex_ -agent – had watched him peruse the art displayed around his office.

Kallus _loathes_ him.

Not that he can do much with that loathing, at the moment, but it is a welcome addition to the pride and stubbornness keeping him on his feet. 

When they finally leave the tower the excruciating agony that flares through his right leg initially makes Kallus think they _had_ re-broken it, and for a while gruesome visions of being forced to walk until the bone splinters and slices through his flesh dance in his head (because he _absolutely_ needs something else to go along with the double-vision). Fortunately, it soon becomes apparent that the knee is merely bruised, although it isn’t as if he can rule out a fracture. 

Which was a diagnosis he thinks also applies to his ribs, as he can’t feel any of the tell-tale shifting and stabbing agony that would indicate they are full-on broken. Of course, he thinks as the Death troopers manhandle him back to the Star Destroyer, it doesn’t mean they’ll remain that way. But Thrawn has apparently worked off enough steam that he no longer feels the need to make his displeasure known by beating the crap out of the ex-ISB agent, and has reverted back to his usual mind games.

Now, while Kallus will admit (at blasterpoint, on a cliff’s edge, while bleeding out) that Thrawn is a better strategist than he is, comparatively, it’s not as if the ex-ISB agent is a slouch in that department either. And if there’s one thing Kallus excels at, it’s the ability to intuit possible avenues of exploitation for his benefit. 

For example: while Thrawn is very much a puppeteer-type strategist, Kallus knows that the Chiss’ sense of artistry will compel the Admiral to land the finishing blow on the Rebels with his own hand; which means that his Death troopers will accompany him, leaving Kallus either dead, in the brig, or on the bridge with regular Stormtroopers. Kallus judges the first scenario to be the least likely; Thrawn will save him to use him as a public example of what the Empire does to traitors. And he likely won’t end up in the brig either, given that the entire reason he hadn’t wound up there in the first place is because Thrawn wanted him to see the destruction of the Rebels firsthand. So he’s probably going to wind up with regular Stormtrooper guards, which will set up the next part of his plan nicely.

Pryce, for all her rank and ardor over defeating the rebels, is essentially a civilian in a military uniform. Not that she is alone in that, in the Empire, but unfortunately for the soldiers who must obey her, she is a civilian in a high position of power. When things go sideways – and given that there are Rebels involved, Kallus knows it’s a ‘when’ not ‘if’ – she’ll panic. If he can antagonize her enough before that happens, she’ll order the Stormtroopers to remove him from the bridge, and they’ll have to obey.

And well, once that happens, having his hands cuffed behind him – with _regular_ cuffs – won’t be an impediment in the slightest (and Thrawn thinking that that plus only two guards is enough to handle him is, quite frankly, _insulting_ ). 

It all works out just as he’d thought it would, although it’s a bitter reassurance to him later, as he sits through yet another debriefing with Rebel Command. Kallus isn’t the first Imperial to defect – far from it, in fact – but he is one of the higher ranking ones, and the only ISB agent who’s defected with more than just surface intel. 

All of which adds up to a very long stretch of nearly twelve-hour days as what passes for Rebel Intelligence picks his brain for every single scrap of information he can recall. Nothing is spared – they essentially insist on hearing his entire damn life story, nevermind just about his career in the ISB. 

But finally, _finally_ , they have no further questions for him (He knows they’ve been verifying the info as he’s been giving it, and he’s absently curious if the _Ghost_ had been one of the ships sent out to do so). Not that they trust him, obviously, but they don’t _entirely_ distrust him either. As a result of that, he is kept chained to Rebel Command, essentially a dogsbody for whichever superior yanks his leash. 

It’s another aggravation on top of everything else. He’s already struggling with having his entire world – or rather galaxy – view turned inside out, striving to see these rebels as righteous instead of going against the proper order of things. It’s hard to erase a lifetime of Imperial conditioning, and being under the authority of people his upbringing keep telling him are inferior, and enemies, keeps him awake more than a few nights. 

He tries to work off his confusion in the training rooms, but there’s only so much catharsis to be found training by himself, and at first they won’t give him a weapon and allow him on the firing range (and walking around unarmed makes him even twitchier). Add to that he’s also not yet trusted to do field work, and he’s climbing the walls in frustration in very short order. 

While his rise through the ISB necessitated more paperwork and less field time the higher his rank became, the enforced inactivity finally comes to a head with a very terse conversation – not an argument, not _exactly_ – with Rebel Command, and Mon Mothma finally relents and allows him a blaster; an old model, one he has to completely dismantle and repair before he trusts it to not blow his hand off when he pulls the trigger. 

The dark and distrustful looks towards him only intensify as he begins to spend time on the firing range, but Kallus has had plenty of experience ignoring such things (he doubts his decision some days, not sure how to bridge the gap; and on others firmly convinces himself that he doesn’t _need_ to, can go on like he always has).

He’s knocked for another loop the day one of the rebels – a young Mon Calamari female, maybe twenty – marches up to him and asks him (more like demands, but he can hear the fear in her voice so he doesn’t take umbrage) to teach her how to shoot. Soon enough, there are enough students he has to sit down with some of the more senior rebels and work out an actual _class_ schedule, and it starts to spiral from there. Kallus eventually manages to persuade his overseers to allow him to teach several other topics – espionage and infiltration tactics mostly, but also some hand-to-hand and exotic weapons combat classes. 

Funnily enough it isn’t until later, when he’s officially bestowed the rank of Captain that it actually sinks in.

 _I am actually helping the rebels overthrow the Empire._

_**I** am a Rebel._

And it’s such a _stupid_ realization this late in the game, but the truth of it sinks into his bones, and he finally says good-bye to the last lingering vestiges of ISB Agent 021 (the minute he’s alone he breaks down into uncontrollable laughter that shifts to sobs as he finally accepts that _he can never go back_ ). 

The next time he walks out to meet the crew of the _Ghost_ , back from their latest mission, Alexsandr can’t help but smirk. 

“…it’s time to get to work.”

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**Author's Note:**

> 2017 was the Year of Starting New Stuff, and 2018 is going to be the Year of Finishing Old Stuff Because Oh My God Do I Have a Lot of Unfinished Stories ^_^;


End file.
